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She picket©. Cr ti| §ectlh W. B. MINCEY, Editor. VOL. I. In the Grnnd Court of tho Kremlin at 1 Moscow there is about to be erected a monument in memory of tho late Czar which will cost $050,000. The recent development of industrial and commercial enterprise in Japan has been very great. Sinco January, 1887, three hundred and thirty-one companies have been started. King Leopold of Belgium recently purchased a copy of General Grant’s book, and he has recommended the study of American history in the schools and colleges of his kingdom. The New York News declares there is a fortune waiting the man who can invent some economical method of doing away witli the. risks of using natural gas. In Pennsylvania alono it hjas caused losses by lire amounting to $900,151 in three years. The committee having in charge the Christopher Columbus celebration at Barcelona, Spain, offers a prize of $10,- 000 for the best book, in any language, on the geographical discoveries of Portu¬ guese and Spanish explorers prior to the time of Magellan. A New York broker made $42,000 in two days. He put $50,000 with it to make $150,000 in three days, and lost tho entire sum in six hours’ turn of tlie market. In the morning he lived in a palace. In the evening he was out look¬ ing for apartments. August Burkhart, of Knoxville, Tenn., has sent this extraordinary letter to the pension agent; “Please strike my name off the United States pension-rolls, as I am perfectly cured and need the assist¬ ance of the Government no longer. In¬ closed find my pension.” A monument to those German soldiers who fought and fell for the Confederacy has just been begun at Charleston, S. C. It will be erected mainly by the four German companies who fought undei General Lee, many of whom are among the solidest men of that city to-day. Pascal Porter, the boy preacher, who has bee.n astonishing congregations in Indiana and Kentucky by his eloquent and learned sermons, is only eleven years old and dresses in knickerbockers; a plaited blouse, a jaunty little hat and high button shoes complete his attire. In many respects he. looks like an or¬ dinary schoolboy. Of the 17,743 Fijians inhabiting the Fiji Islands, more than nine-tenths at¬ tend church with fair regularity; where fifty years since there was not a single Christian, to-day there is not a single avowed heathen; a 1 the Fiji children are in the schools; the schools and churches have wholly displaced the heathen temples. The police have seized documents re¬ vealing the widespread nature of the recently thwarted conspirey in Servia. It was intended by the plotters to arrest King Alii an and the leading public men of the capital and install Prince Kara- georgevics on the throne,and also to pro¬ mote a revolt in Bosnia. The conspiracy is attributed to Russian influence. The character of a certain class of thieves’ booty seems to be undergoing a complete revolution. Only a short time ago their boldness extended to carrying off stoves. Then it became more expan¬ sive, so as to include house roofs, and now one of the rascals out in Kansas hits capped the climax by digging up and carting away 500 sweet potato plants. “The years clutch all alike,” philoso¬ phizes the San Francisco Argonaut, “and Queen Victoria has fallen into tho habit of taking little ‘cat naps’ in her chair, even when visitors are present. At such times the royal lady goes through the same routine, followed by the most hum¬ ble of her subjects, Her head falls a little forward, »swaying slightly from side to side; then she sits bolt upright, opens her eyes very wide, and assumes an appearance of great intelligence and alertness.” The New York Herald prints a letter from Lieutenant Commander Charles H. Rockwell, United States Navy, on the much mooted question of fog signaling at sea. ‘This officer,” says the Herald, “makes it very clear that what is wanted is a signal quickly and certainly con¬ i \ veyed and instantly understood, His ! plan that there shall be only four such i signals one for each quadrant of the compass—seems to be sufficiently com- prehensive and yet by no means compli- as Commander n rT Rockwell r** *“ suggests, bs until some simple, intelligible method can be devised to prevent collisions in fog.” JASPER, GEORGIA, THU l {SDAY„ JULY 20, 1888. MIRAGE. VVeT read that book, we’ll sing that song, But when! Oh, when the days are long; When thoughts are free, and voices clear; Some happy time within the year— The days troop by with noiseless tread, Tho song unsung; tho book unread. m We’ll see that friend, and make him feel The weight of friendship, true ns steel; Rome flower of sympathy bestow— But time sweeps on with steady flow, Until with quick, reproachful tear, We lay our flowers upon bis bier. And still we walk the desert sands, And still with trifles fill our hand, While ever, just beyond our reach, A fairer purpose shows to each. The deeds we have not done, but willed, Remain to haunt us—unfulfilled. —New York Commercial Advertiser. LOST AND FOUND. BY K. K. GRANT. The summer that I left old “Vassar’s” classic shades, crowned with honors and flushed with triumph, father was board¬ ing at Mrs. Elliott’s; indeed he had lived there for years, while I was pursu¬ ing my studies in the North. He was a widower of line physique and ample for¬ tune, with no encumbrance save me, his only child—Eunice Grey. Mrs. Elliott’s boarding-house was, un¬ like the typical one, elegant in all its ap¬ pointments, with a corps of well-trained servants, and a mistress that would have graced the home of the most fastidious and connoisseur of feminine beauty worth. We became fast friends at once —this petite brunette and myself. To her invalid child I was no less strongly attached. I wondered often why tire mother was always robed in the deepest of mourning. That she was a widow I kuew; but that her bereavement was of no recent date I had learned by chance, from the little one who, in mentioning her father, told me quaintly she had never known him, that he had gone up to God before the fairies had given her to her mamma. I asked my father if he could solve the vexatious mystery of those sable garments. “Oh, yes,” he answered, “I believe I can. It is but the fancy of a loving wo¬ man’s heart that sees in the sombre hues a reflex of the grief that knows no so¬ lace. Seven years ago her husband per¬ ished in a storm that wrecked the pleas¬ ure yacht herself in which they were the cruising. She interposition escaped death Providence, by mirac¬ be¬ ulous of ing caught drifted by a passing steamer’s crew, as she by them clinging to a broken plank. She was carried aboard, but lost consciousness, as the rough but kindly hands drew her from her watery bed. For months she lay ill, nigh to death, her mind a blank. When at length the skill of the experts in the ‘lie- treat for the Insane’ to which she had been conveyed effected the restcration of reason, she learned through the col¬ umns of an old Herald that she alone sur¬ vived that fearful gale. A few weeks later a new-born baby lay upon her bosom. Miles away from the scene of the disaster, in a strange land, little Ada was born. Mrs. Elliott does not know, as I do, that official stupidity—or care¬ lessness—had reported husband’s. her death some three days after her The oc¬ cupant of the bed next hers in the In¬ sane Pavillion having died,and the name oddly enough being the same as her own, it was immediately taken for granted that the deceased was the vic¬ tim of the yacht disaster. “The northern climate was not suited to Ada’s delicate constitution. For this reasonMrs. Elliott came south and opened the a small select boarding house for maintainance of herself and little one. So popular did this become under her management that she was emboldened by the success of her humble beginning to remove to this fine dwelling. And you see what she accomplished here. “She was my first love, Eunice. Years before, I met your mother I knew and lcved Edith Lattimer; but she gave her hand and heart to my chum, George El¬ liott, and I went my way with sorrow for my loss, and gladness for the happi¬ ness of the two so dear to me. I would make her my wife now; but she is true to the memory of her husband, and frankly says that no one can ever be as dear to her as he. It is sad, this linking one’s self with those that are gone; but it is like a woman’s constancy; and I am not the man to press a suit I know is vain.” loved After hearing Elliott this recital I believe I Mrs. more than ever. I cer¬ tainly devotion felt deeper sympathy her child for her grief. Her iji was touch¬ ing in the cripple extreme, birth—seemed The little creature—a from too fragile for this earth. Her deep blue eyes looked out wistfully at one from amidst a mass of fluffy golden curls So patient, so loving, who could help being day drawn after toward day, her ? I was with her reading some birds, bright the tale, flowers or talking and the to bright her of blue the j sky; but best of all she loved to hear of the sea where the waves, in their silvery tones, sang a requiem over the grave of the father she had never known. And she would press her lips to the miniature that hung by a golden thread from her neck, and murmur words of love to the handsome man whose image it bore. She would sit for hours by the window where we placed her and watch the shifting panorama of busy people in the streets below. And when some sprightly little elf would dance by in childish glee Ada would draw her mother gently to her and kiss away the tears which clouded those dark eyes for she knew how it grieved her that her only child should 0 ne would seek to show how little she recked her own sad lot. Poor child! she knew not that a child’s heart is an “WE SEEK THE REWAR OF HONEST LABOR." open book to its mother. But when Arts and I were alone, she would* often say. “Oh, Eunice, why must and I suffer so? It liurts so bad to cough, yet I can- not keep it in. And when the doctor comes in the mornings and sounds my i lungs, as ho says, I could scream out loud; but 1 do not cry because mamma ■ is always there. But it hurts so awfu bad.” I could only press my lips together t keep buck the tears, and presently tun the child’s thoughts elsewhere. Summer passed. Autumn in th< South, you know it, fair reader, with its cool breezes fanning away the sultry breath of heated days; when birds of fashion flit back from rural scenes to brighten the dull city with the spread back of their gay plumage; when men go | to the dull routine of business, revivified by the rest they have taken; and dormant society That wakes from its sleep. pulse ' fall New Orleans’s beat with feverish activity, for it witnessed the opening of tlic “World’s Exposition.” And right royally the dear old city wel¬ comed a concourse such as had never be¬ fore graced her doors. A concourse drawn thither by the grand pageant in which all nationalities forgot their dif¬ ferences, and united in bringing their treasures to enrich the scene. Mrs Elliott’s was the vantage point toward which the affluent visitor to tho South¬ ern metropolis invariably made his way. To a certain number only she gave ad¬ mission. No thought of persuade a golden her harv est to be reaped could to incommode her bonders by an unseemly crowding in of other guests, so that while other houses were swarming with crowds of humanity that jostled one against the other in the small compass allotted to them as value received for the liberal stipend paid, ours was free from these discomforts. Father was en¬ gaged at the “Exposition Building” all day and far into the night, superintend¬ ing his interests approached, there. Mrs. Elliott As winter but rarely left Ada, for she saw, what even to strangers was plain, that the lit¬ tle bud was passing away to bloom in the garden of Paradise. I assumed all the duties and responsibilities mother and of her the housekeeping child might that the parted during the not be last days of sad, but sweet relegated companion¬ ship. To my father I the col¬ lection of bills, the payment of dues; keeping strict account of each receipt and every expenditure. One night he returned home much earlier than was his wont. His face was aslten pale, and his limbs trembled with excitement. I went with him to his room to try and persuade him to rest, but ho silenced my fears of his ill-health, assuring mi. that all was well with him. die told me: “Eunice, child, 1 have seen what at first I friend thought the phantom of a dear old to-day. Twice did I see the familiar features in the surging crowd that swept by me. I followed, scarce crediting him—Edith’s my senses; and at length I found hus¬ band—my old friend, George Elliott, Eunice, how cun I tell her?” “But,” said I, when the first surprise was past, “how can you explain the mys¬ he tery of his reappearance? For years was mourned as dead.” “Yes; but he, too. was rescued by a good Samaritan of the deep, and be¬ lieved his wife was lost, owing to the official stupidity of which I once told you. The poor woman that was hur¬ ried off to the Potter’s field as soon as the breath left her body, was, months later, disinterred, and buried beneath a marble shaft, iu George’s plot at Green¬ wood. My friend still wore mournig for his wife when I met him to-day.” have “So, perhaps, al ter all some men women’s fancies,” said I. Father kissed me tenderly—“go pre¬ pare Edith for the meeting. him George his waits anxiously. I have told of child, he knows that her stay will not be for long.” I hurried to obey my father’s wishes. Something of the joy I felt -at the anticipation of the glad reunion Ada smiled must have appeared in my face for sweetly as I entered. “Sister (she al¬ ways called me so toward the last) Sis¬ ter—has—good news,” said she, faintly. “I have, darling, good, very, very good news.” ‘ ‘Will—you—tell—us ?” Kneeling there beside her, I stroked the little hand she laid in mine as I an¬ swered, “yes my darling, in a little whde. Are you first?” strong enough to listen to a little story “Yes—yes”—eagerly answered the child. , * “Well, then, darling, many there years ago, we will say seven years since, was a lady and a gentleman sailing on one of those pretty white winged yatchs bird that skim over the billows like a at “Stop! stop!” cried Edith. I motioned her to silence, and con¬ tinued; “A tiny black cloud suddenly arose in the clear blue sky, a harbinger of the swift oncoming storm; but none noticed the warning, and the precious moments passed on. The wind arose, gaining rapidly in intensity until it cul- minated in a furious gale. The tiny yacht danced like a leaf on the storm tossed waves. But, oh, cruel fate! The tempest felt no pity for the two hearts there. Amid the roll of thunder and the triumphal roaring of the wind, the wicked deed was done. And when next the lightning’s flash lit up the scene, the waves were sighing mournfully for the little boat that had gone down, down into the grave beneath the deep blue sea—” “Stop! stop!” cried Edith.• “Eunice, darling, it was a storm such as you have pictured that robbed me of my husband.” “The — papa — I— never — knew, ” echoed the child. “I—will—meet— him—soon, — dear — mammtna, —and— tell—him—how —you—loved—him.” her fastened She paused, amazed and eyes the themselves in opened surprise softly upon she door which had as spoke. No need for me to turn, I knew; 1 felt who stood there. Edith alone had hr 1 -'* 1 ^othing. “Toll him, darling,’* sin® v\. mured through her tears, “that 'M® Art I gave him years ago is now as -»ly his ns then, ami that, when at length the d.iHh comes, I will gladly welcome eill that summons me to you and to him.” 'gasped hud for drawn breath as she the spoke, bedside, fora s) g«-r near to ' her stood beside him. “The yacht went down, but husband t e were saved!” I cried out joy- Edith looked at mo keenly, di Both?” she ochoed. >s! yes!” said the child. “Oh, ma, he is here—the father I never iew-—and loved so well.” And pale a (1 exhausted from the effort she had male, Ada lay fainting on the pillow wl^ch was scarcely whiter than her face, Shall I ever forget Edith’s eyes as they .nut the loving gaze of her husband she liYV mourned as dead? Oh, tho rapture of that meeting! saddened as it was by tifftdrifting away of a little life so near, so iear to both, fe sat by that bed through the whole ol that night- -our Ada’s last night rallied on earih. l ong past midnight called; she from her stupor and faintly “It grows—so dark—oh, mamma—is this—death?” ■‘LMy darling, my darling!” was the broken cry in response. 'Oh, wife, think how she has suffered; ice that all pain will soon be past.” fice, see, how bright—it grows. J .l-eii —the sweet—music—hush! It comes nearer—nearer—oh—the—bright —the —pretty dark—is light. Mamma—papa—sister all gone now.” A faint gasp for breath, a tremor of the eyelids, and as the gray light of the early morn stole in, there amidst the flowers she loved, Ada lay at rest for¬ ever.— Yankee Blade. ^ Elk vs. AYiId Dogs. A stockman just in from the Wind River range tells a story of a fierce and exciting battle between a courageous old elk and the wild dogs The that infest the Wind River region. river escapes from the mountains and hills into what is known as the basin district, over high and beautiful falls named tlie Maiden Hair. AVhile riding near these falls a few days ago the stockman’s baying, attention was attracted by a deep and at once recognizing the sound as coming from the savage dogs and realizing the ne¬ cessity of getting out of the way, the horseman rode rapidly to the ton of a neighboring bill, which commanded an excejlent view of the falls and also of tlie surrounding country. He had scarcely reached the top of the hill when he saw, Masting along the river, a high ridge running elk, paroled hot! to a magnificent 1 chased by a dozen or more mount- aifrSbgs. for The time, racc^had for the evidently elk appeared been on some about exhausted and the dogs were not the in the best of condition. On swept pursued and the pursuers, every bound bringing the dogs nearer the haunches of the tired elk. Suddenly the elk changed side his course and plunged straight down for the the falls. of the ridge, making Overhanging the edge of the river, and towering directly above the pool at the foot of the falls, was a huge rock. On to this rock the bull made his way, and planting himself within a few feet of the edge and with lowered antlers, awaited the attack. He did not have to wait long. The dogs came with a rush and hurled themselves at their prey. First one and then another dog was caught in the elk’s antlers and sent howling into the depths below. Just when the fight was the hottest the rock, or ledge, upon which the battle was being fought, sud¬ denly gave way, and with a crash the combatants were dropped of into the the falls, water and and rocks at the foot their bruised and bleeding remains were swept down the stream .—Globe Democrat. A Plague ol Crickets. Accounts are published caused by in crickets Paris in of the devastation Algeria. The insects resemble, but are not identical with either locusts or grass¬ hoppers hoppers . ravaged Last the year colony. swarms This of grass¬ year the Crickets have taken their place. They spring like grasshoppers, but have a more rapid and sustained flight. They form clouds which shut out the light of the sun. When they alight on the ground they destroy every trace of vege¬ tation. They sometimes fall exhausted on the ground in such numbers as to cover it with a layer of dead bodies, from which pestilential exhalations arise. The method still employed to check the evil in the African possessions of Franc# is the old and expensive one of digging long trenches at a right angle to the ad¬ vancing swarms, and placing on the most distant side a sort of fence, formed by a web of cloth. The advancing insects strike against the cloth, fall into the pit, and arc there covered with lime or mould. The ’"'erian authorities have spent $14i in destroying them, and now con* itc a further the expenditure It of $20 D complete work. was rec ,ited that the English authori¬ ties. pros had traced the locusts in that i . ,4 to their breeding place, and had there to a great extent succeeded in destroying them in germ, before they be¬ came developed into the destructive swarms which periodically devastated thatisland .—Commercial Advertiser. Suicide of a Robin Redbreast. There was a peculiar suicide ..... in Lancy Park, Elmira, N. Y deserted the.othermorning. A robin redbreast, by its mate, sought to drown its misery m death Taking a long string which he had picked up to bough, put into its wound nest, he around swung it around a then it his neck and expired. The body hung in the tree all day, and many pedestrians gazed at it curiously .—Pittsburg Dis¬ patch. Glass windows commenced to make their appearance in English private houses in 1160. Glass was first brought to England in 068. $1.00 Per Annum, In Advance. HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. \ New Houp. Take eight large potatoes ftncl three onions; cut them in small pieces ami boil them in a pint of water unt il soft, Pass them through a fine colander. Have rcaily two quarts of skimmed milk; boil it; add a very little powdered mace and one pieco of loaf sugar, a pincli of cayenne and the puree of potatoes. When all boils together, thicken the soup with two tablespoon fills of potato flour or ordinary flour. Before pouring in tho the soup into the tureen, place Fry latter a tablcspoonful of butter. some crutons in good beef dripping and serve thorn with the soup but. on a sep¬ arate dish,— Truth. A Simplo Sideboard. A simple and inexpensive sideboard, which does good duty and is very ap¬ propriate in tho modestly furnished house, is made of a plain deal table about two-thirds tho width of the ordinary kitchen table, with a shelf ttted below. Stain this to imitate old oak with a mix¬ ture of raw Sienna, burnt Sienna and Vandyke brown thinned to the proper consistency with sizing. Hang stained some plain shelves above, either or covered with felt cloth, to hold orna¬ mental pieces of china and glass. Lay upon the top of tho table a scarf of butcher’s linen, with knotted fringe, anil further ornamented with drawn work or outline designs in washable silks, and then will be had a sideboard of which no one need be ashamed .—Prairie Farmer. Unique Use lor Broomsticks. Broomsticks are not such useless arti¬ cles after all. Aside from the proverbial use as a woman’s weapon, the broom¬ stick can serve as an ornament. Three of these with a hole bored half way be¬ tween the ends and tied together, and when left to fall into tent-shape form the legs of a very unique little table. A square, or circular, or indeed any shaped piece of board makes a top. Now cover this top with plush or velvet. Crazy silk patch work used to be seen, but this, like its friends, the broomsticks bedquilts, are being discarded. The arc pretty, gilded. Tie the legs with broad ribbon and place on the bow a bunch of grasses or flowers, Broomsticks ar- ranged in this tent-like shape can he used for a gypsy kettle or most any kind oi hanging basket. — Conuucrruil Adeer'iscr. A Delicious Sandwich. A very delicious sandwich, for which we are indebted to the French, is mads of puff-paste. After it is fully rolled and folded, roll it out one-fourth inch in thickness, uml fold it even'Jr liken sheet of paper. Then roll this out to an eighth of an inch in thickness, and about! twelve inches in width. This sheet of paste must be arranged in size to form a roll—when rolled up—of two inches and a half in diameter. Wet the edge so that it may not unfold again, then press it flat until it is reduced to three-fourths of an inch in thickness; then with a sharp knife cut it off iu slices one-fourtli of an inch in thickness; lay these in the pan cut part down, for they need room and will per¬ haps spread. After they are baked dust them well with powdered which sugur be and hot re¬ turn to the oven, must very in order to melt the sugar, which gives a fine glaze. A salamander will glaze them quicker than the heat of the oven, or you may wash them over with the white of an egg dusted with sugar. When finished spread raspberry jam on them and fasten two together. These are very delicious, and form a tempting looking dish .—New York Post. Recipes. Jam Sauce.— A teacupful of water to half a pot of jam; stir it and melt it on the fire*; then strain it and pour it around your pudding. Chocolate Pudding. —Melt one half pound of butter and stir into it one pound of flour, one-quarter pound sugar, three one pint of milk and the yolks of be eggs. This pudding can either steamed or baked. Lyonaise Pototoes. —Cut one pint cold boiled potatoes into small and pieces and season them with pepper salt; add one teaspoonful chopped parsley; in put a teaspoouful butter on the tire a saucepan: when hot add a slice of onion; fry brown; add potatoes, and fry to a light brown. Puree ok Peas. —Wash a quart of peas which have been already hulled, put them in a saucepan with three pints of water, very little salt and pepper, half an ounce of ham and an onion cut in slices. Boil until soft, then drain off the water and rub the peas through add¬ a colander. Heat again on the lire, ing two heaping tablespoonfuls Serve of butter hot. and a pinch of sugar. very Si, aw Dressing.— Heat together gill to a boiling point in a stewpan, a of vinegar and an ounce of butter. Stir in an egg well beaten and a gill of sweet cream. Season to taste and pour over finely-chopped cabbage. Another way is to mix together a gill of water and a gill of vinegar; thicken with half an ounce of flour. Cook two minutes, add an ounce of butter and season to taste. Stewed Rhubarb. —Wash, peel and cut into two-inch pieces, then into strips, one pound of rhubarb. Put into a porcelain-lined saucepan, add three- f J . uar t ers 0 f a pound of granulated sugar, Lift C ’ and boil fifteen minutes. the sa an from the range and twist it back and forth to £ prevent the rhubarb burning b or gticki g b to the bottom, Turn jt into aa earth en dis h or bowl in- ^ad o{ mctal warc . Brown—‘You are looking Durnley.” bright and happy this morning, debt Dum- ley—“Yes, I’m out ol at last. Every bill I owed was outlawed yester- day. I tell you, Brown, a man feels like a man when he is square with the t world .”—New York Sun. NO. 40. THE OLD AND NEW. Old radiant faces are tho l>ORt, However good the new, The tlrst, have smiled ami stood the test Of many years review. < )ld voices yield tlie richest song, Though dark tho clouds above, Their echolngs are sweet and long With changeless notes of love. Old lips thrill with a monotone, Old hearts have stoady heats, Their fashioning was in the zone Of truth, and not deceits. Old eyes glow with a steady light When new ones turn away, Old hands renew their youthful might In sorrow's darkest day. So I will cling to friendships old, And stand always for right, ^.Inconstant hearts can never hold A solaco for life’s night. - ) —Jb iyu F.. Orr, in Virginian. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Ancient Greece—Old butter. Musical circles—AVliolc notes. Butchers are great hands to “cut up.” With tho horseman, life is but a span. An unpopular bill sticker—Tito mos- quite. Hunger and a thrashing make many a boy holler. Before arithmetic was invented people multiplied on the face of the earth. It is traveling the broad road that fre¬ quently puts a man iu a financial strait. “In the swim” of society the codfish aristocracy should be able to hold their own. No matter how high an awning may he suspended, it is only a shade above the street. < ’I’lio saddest words of tongue or pen—• “There’s too many women ami not enough men 1” In a Leadvillc church there is this notice; “Please do not shoot the organ¬ ist; he is doing his best.” I It is stated upon reliable authority that the teacher with a glass eye has at least one refractory pupil. — Tid-Bite- Soulful Youth (languidly) Forever!" She Do you sing ‘Forever and (prac¬ tically)—“No, I stop for meals.”— Life. Young Man “Will you give assent to my marriage with your daughter, sir?” Old Man (firmly)—“No, sir; not a cent.” Petrified human beings are very when com¬ they mon among the heathen, for worship;au idol they generally turn to stone. — lifting*. Can anybody explain why a bottle of catsup, when it explodes on the table will sprinkle everything in the room ex- eept the meat ?—Chicago Tribune. “Don’t call me ‘ducky,’ John," Said a fat bride to her husband. “It’s too sug¬ gestive.” “Why, waddle, precious?” know.” “Because ducks always you Intellectual combativeness manifests itself in the human race very early. Children begin to “ah, goo” before they can fairly talk.— Commercial Adcc/tiser. The reporter who wrote up the exhib¬ its at a fair and described a locomotive made of candied peaches as “tooty fruity” is at present unemployed .—Boston Trav¬ eller. A lawyer being asked what a contin¬ gent fee was, said: “If I bring a suit for you and lose the case I get nothing; if I win tho suit you get nothing."— 2/eto York News. Servant- “The mistress says, mum, that she is not at home, Who shall I say railed?” Caller—“You may say that a lady called who didn’t bring her name. ”— Epoch. On a summer’s morning our little Lillie was walking with her aunt and discovered a spidei’s welt. She was do- lighted, and exclaimed; “O, see, here is a hammock for bugs!”— Christian Advo¬ cate. “Porter, hat mu time to do some¬ thing for met" “Yes, sir; what shall it be?” “Bring my trunk from tho depot.” “Excuse me, sir, but my specialties are love letters and bouquets!” —Flierjende Blatter. A lady writing on kissing says that a kiss on the forehead denotes reverence for the intellect. She doesn’t say.so, but a kiss on the back’ of the neck is a proof still. that the young woman didn’t hold —Norristown Herald. Charlotte (who has an income of 30,000 marks)—“In fact, sir, my heart already belongs to another.” Karl (her persist¬ ent suitor)—“Ah! Then he may be easily satisfied; and as forme, I shall be content with the rest.”— Humoristiches. Passenger (on Western railroad)—• “How long will we stop at the next sta¬ tion for lunch, conductor?” Conductor —“Idunno yet. I tolegraphed ahead for a fried chicken, and if it’s ready when we get there we won’t stop more’n. ten minutes.” 'lid-Bits. Landlady (to applicant for board)— “Have you any children madam?’’ Ap¬ plicant—“No.” Landlady—“You are fortunate, for we never take families who have children.”- Landlady—“Yes, Applicant—“Have two." you any children?” Applicant—“Well, board you with are families unfortunate, who for we never have children .”—New York Sun. “Yes, sirree! I’m a self-made man; and I don’t wish you to forget it, Mr. Filkin—a self-made man, sir 1” “Ah, in¬ deed!” replied Filkin. “I’m really very glad to hear it, Mr. Bjones. Do you know, 1 always thought there was and some¬ I thing amateurish about you, see now why it is. I didn’t like to think that you were a product of nature.”— Harper's, Bazar. A woman in New York died recently from the effects of swallowing four false teeth on a rubber plate